


Drugged

by thecookiemomma



Series: You, Me, and TLC [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M, author's note forum prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gets shot ... again, and nearly says some things while doped up that might get them in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drugged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenascully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenascully/gifts).



> The very new, and very awesome [Author's Notes Forum](http://xenascully.com/authorsnotes/forum.php)(designed for writers to get together and discuss the whys and wherefores of fanfic writing) came up with [this prompt](http://xenascully.com/authorsnotes/showthread.php?t=166), so I filled it. There ya go, Xenascully.

It had been a long hard day, and Tony had gotten shot. Again. Jethro groaned, ran his hand over his face, and dialed the ambulance to get his lover to the hospital.

“Boss. No. I'm fine. It's through-and-through. I don't need to go to the ...” Jethro reached over, and cuffed him gently on his head, shutting him up without rattling his shoulder. “Thank you Boss, shutting up, Boss.”

Jethro gentled his touch. “Attaboy, Tony.” Tony leaned into Jethro's hand, and purred quietly and contentedly. Soon enough, they were headed to the hospital. Of course, the first thing the EMTs did was to start a drip of morphine. Jethro tried to explain to them that Tony had interesting reactions to strong pain meds, but they didn't listen, and brushed him off. Frustrated, he sat down beside Tony in the ambulance, and grasped the younger man's hand.

“Jethro – Oh, Jethro. I'm so-o glad you came along. You know I got shot again.” Tony singsonged, in a high-pitched voice.

“Yeah, Tone. I got that.” Jethro couldn't help the smirk that blossomed on his face.

“Hurts, though. Hurts like hell. Why did I get shot again?” He squeezed Jethro's hand, and tried to bring it up to his mouth to kiss. “You're too far away, babe. Can't kiss you so far away. Want to kiss you. Like kissing you.” The EMT beside him gave Jethro a pointed look.

“Told ya he gets weird on 'em.” He muttered, then sighed, leaning as far forward as he could while still staying buckled in his seat. “Babe, we're not at home. Remember, we're headed to the hospital. I can't kiss ya in the hospital. We were tryin' to keep this under wraps. But they gave you the good stuff.” He drew Tony's hand to his own mouth, grazing his knuckles with his lips. “There. I kissed you. It'll have to do for now. You got shot because the damn FBI agent wasn't payin' attention. Better believe I'm gonna give Fornell shit for that.” He snorted. “One of his rookies, and he didn't have the guts to tell me the bastard'd never been on a stakeout like that before.”

“He was a stakeout-probie Obie Obie. Obie Stakeout-probie. Stay-kout. I love stakeouts, Boss, you know that?” Tony grinned. “Hey. I don't hurt anymore. They give me morphine, Boss?”

Jethro couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. “You know I'm gonna call that kid Obie for the rest of his life, now, don'tcha?” Tony grinned, and Jethro wondered how much of this was for show and how much was really his brain going loopy on the drugs. “Yeah, Tone. They gave ya morphine.” He snorted, and looked over at the EMT beside him, who was fighting not to laugh.

“You weren't kidding, were you sir?” The skinny young kid shook his head and checked the IV.

“Don't call him sir. He's a work-working thing. Person.” Tony chided the kid, which made Jethro's grin widen even further.

“Wish I had a video camera, Tony. I'd keep this for you to see later. And for leverage.” He ran his thumb over the top of Tony's knuckles. “Yeah. I work for a living. Don't call me sir.” He reiterated for the kid, who was wearing a tag with the name... he squinted trying to see the name, but after a minute or two he gave up.

“S'name is Toby, Boss.” Tony had caught his intent, and read the name tag for him. “Like Fornell. But he doesn't like to be called Toby. Just Tobias. Except you call him Toby, dontcha, Jethro? What's he call you?” He grinned even more sappily.

“Jethro.” The older man shifted slightly in his seat, and looked back over at Toby. “When we gettin' there?”

“Pulling up right now, Special Agent.” The EMT hopped up, and Jethro dropped Tony's hand.

“Hold on, Tony, we'll get ya inside, and get that shoulder taken care of. You let Toby and his buddy take care of you, and I'll fill out all the damn paperwork.”

“Your name. My name...” Tony struggled to find the words to say. “Next person-thing-family, or something.”

“Yeah, Tone. I'm still your next-of-kin. I checked last week. Part of the Supervisor's job, to make sure all that crap's still up to date.”

“Good, Jeth. Good. Don't – um – don't go bourbon. Don't...”

“Don't worry about it, Tone. I got your six.” He leaned in, kissing a light kiss to the other man's forehead, then let the men pull the gurney out of the ambulance.

* * *

He filled out all the paperwork, making sure to note Tony's sensitivity to the stronger medications, and sat back in the waiting room. As expected, it wasn't too long until he was surrounded by his team members.

“Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!!” Abby, predictably, was the first one to show up. “How is he, Gibbs? Did they give him painkillers again? Because last time, he quoted me four episodes of Magnum before they got the doses right. With the voices and all. Which was kinda hinky, because, Gibbs, there was this character...”

“Abs.” Jethro pulled gently on her pigtail. “Calm down. Haven't seen him since they took him in. With it bein' a through-and-through, they have to check to make sure all the lead went through, and not stuck in his shoulder.”

“Quite right, Abigail. That shouldn't take that long, but it does need to be done.” Ducky traipsed in a few minutes after the others, his age starting to slow him down more. “Jethro, how did he seem on the ride in?”

“Gave 'im morphine, Duck. So, he was loopy.” Jethro snorted, and watched the reactions.

“Oh, I bet that was a fun pot of fish.” Ziva commented, a smile on her face.

“Kettle, Ziva, Kettle of fish.” McGee was right behind them. “Parked in Seven-B, Boss. We brought two cars so you'll have a way home.” They all knew how he was when one of his team got hurt.

“Good call, McGee.” He nodded quickly, catching the keys that Tim threw his way. “Vance know about this yet, or do I need t' call him?” He looked among his team, quirking his eyebrow.

“No, Boss. I got that covered. Told him about the op, got the guy squared away in holding, and hurried here.”

“Good work.” Tim fairly beamed with two compliments in as many minutes. They sat down in the uncomfortable chairs, and tried to relax, waiting for the doctor to arrive with news.

* * *

“So, he's alright, then?” Jethro gazed at Ducky. “Nothing permanent?” He knew that even with a through-and-through, it wasn't certain that everything would 'be okay.'

“Yes, Jethro, Anthony is quite alright. Why, the number of times that boy has come out of a situation unscathed is amazing. Rather reminds me of this time in Pakistan when ...”

“Duck. Focus. So, I can go see 'im now?” He was impatient. He wanted to be by his lover's side. Especially while he was all hopped up on pain meds. No telling what he'd do then.

“Ye-ess, Jethro, you may go make sure he is all right, though I don't understand why you will not take my word for it that he is fine and should sleep...”

Jethro snorted. “Got nothin' to do with you, Duck. I just have to see with my eyes. DiNozzo'd say it's because I'm as stubborn as an old mule, and I think he's got me pegged.” _In more ways than one,_ he thought amusedly.

“Well, to quote the youngsters, Jethro, 'You said it, not I.'” Ducky gave him a broad smile, and patted him on the back. “Do give him my regards. I have to head home. Mother's nurse just called. She's decided that the meals-on-wheels delivery man is a gigolo and is propositioning him. Needless to say, for an upstanding man in a very conservative church, that isn't going over very well at all.”

Jethro laughed outright, being very able to picture Victoria Mallard doing exactly that. After all, she did call his lover a gigolo and a furniture mover on a regular basis. “Drive safely, duck. And remind the poor guy that she isn't quite all there.”

“Oh, yes. He may be on the receiving end of quite a discussion on the nature of dementia.” Ducky turned to leave, then turned back, sliding his fedora on his head. “Jethro, don't push him too hard. You have a tendency to...”

“Du-uuck.” Jethro cautioned, shooing the man away with his hands.

“Right. Evening Ziva, Abigail, Timothy.” He nodded to each of them in turn, and headed out to his car.

Jethro gave his team a few last reminders, and strode purposefully to the hospital room to see his lover.

* * *

“Hey, Boss.” Tony was in fine form. “Boss, I feel good.” He grinned up at him. “They gave me some medicine, and it feels good.”

“Said that already, Tone. Doc said you made it through okay. No permanent damage. Duck said you're a lucky son-of-a-bitch.”

“He said bitch, Boss?” Tony giggled like a five-year-old at the mention of the word 'poop.' “He really said son-of-a-bitch?”

“No, Tone. He didn't. Not in those words.” He slid his chair over closer to rest his arm comfortably against Tony's skin. “You tell me if I hurt, babe. I can still headslap...”

“Yeah. Wasn't you that got shot.” His face shone with a cheesy grin. “Was me, Jet. So, your arm still works fine.” He giggled.

“Rest of me works fine, too, Tone.” He lowered his head to kiss Tony's lips gently. “If you're good and don't bug the nurses too much, I'll show you how good it works when we get outta here.” He grinned, and gave Tony another kiss, this one just a little deeper, before drawing back again.

“Awwwww.....” Tony drew the word out, whining so sharply that it hurt Jethro's ears. “Was just getting' good, babe. Want you in my bed. Wanna fuck you, but there's this thing in my arm, and it goes –wooo through this looopy thing, through and up and around and …” His eyes and good arm followed the path of the IV tubing. “Then it goes up up up some more, and then it goes into that thing. What's that thing, Boss? S'that the medicine?” He looked thoroughly confused. “I'm an 'vestigatorat'r.” He nodded, as though he had accomplished something huge by mangling that word. “No. Super Special Agent.” Another strong nod. “Have to figure out what that does. Take a sample and give it to Ab—ab...” He struggled, trying to think of their scientist's full name.

“Naw, babe. Abby doesn't need t' test it. Doc knows what it is.” He snorted softly. “It's mostly watery stuff and a little bit of painkiller for ya. But y'know it doesn't take much t' make you out of it.”

“Out of what, Jet? Out of my bed, you're supposed to be in here with me, aren't you? Cuz we don't sleep alone much anymore. But you said we have to keep that part quiet.” He whispered softly. “So, I'll say it quiet.” He laughed, making a silly joke, then stage whispered. “So, I'll say it really quiet. You're supposed to be in my bed and kisisn' me and fuckin' me and makin' me scream. Oh. Wait. That wouldn't be quiet.”

Abby's head popped around the edge of the doorway. “What wouldn't be quiet, Tony?”

“If I was makin' out with ...” He seemed to catch himself and swallowed. “Somebody.”

“Oohh, Tony! Do you have someone special in mind? Tell Abby all.” Jethro groaned inwardly.

“Can't Abby. Wouldn't like it. We're keepin' it quiet. Not safe.” Jethro was proud of his boy, and flashed him a quick heated look, imbued with that pride.

“Oh, is she ashamed, Tony, cuz that's not right. No one should be ashamed to love you.” Jethro agreed with her, but they couldn't let it out just yet. It was too new and too … sweet. He rolled his eyes and listened for Tony's response. He knew he could break in if he really had to, but he wanted to let the two of them talk as long as possible.

“Not ashamed. Not safe.” Tony gestured to the tube again. “Look, Abby. It goes up and around, and it does that little loopy thing. That looks like a mol-eh... Molecule...What am I trying to say, Boss?”

“He's appreciating the shape of the tubing, Abs.” He grinned, amused at his lover. “So, y'know. Take everything he says with a grain a' salt.”

“More than just one grain, Gibbs. Do you know what those painkillers do to poor Tony's brain?” Abby flung her hands around in movements nowhere near the ASL they both knew. “They fire too many dopamines. And that makes him high, Gibbs. So, don't take anything he says at face value.”

“Yes, Abs. I have dealt with Tony when he's drugged up before.” He rolled his eyes. “Just so you do the same.”

“I _know_ what drugs do to the brain, Gibbs. Hello! Scientist here!” She flung her hands up in a pose that from anyone else would be defensive, but from Abby meant something entirely different. “The chemicals go up into ...”

“Abs.” He stopped her explanation. “I know the basics.”

“Basic. Bay-sick. Basic. Funny word. You did basic, Boss, didn't you? I bet you were hot in your …” He looked over at Abby, and had a lucid moment just before he said something stupid. “Sweaty. Cuz you did a lot of exercise. Outside. With the pack and the back and the covers...” He gestured frantically to his head, looking wildly at Jethro, hoping he was doing a good job covering their asses. It was really cute, and he had to hide the huge smile that threatened to break across his face.

“Abs, I think he's gettin' a little sleepy. We probably oughtta let him doze off, don't'cha think?” He gave her an indulgent smile.

“Right-oh, Bossman. Sleep well, Tony. And tell me about your new love when you can, K?” She kissed him on the forehead, right where Jethro had kissed him earlier. He found a certain irony in that.

“Later Abs. I'll see. I just don't... important... safe.”

“I get it, Tony. I really do.” She smiled, patted his head, and stomped out in that happy, busy way that only she had.

“Close one, lover.” Jethro said, leaning over his lover, and kissing him gently. “Get some sleep, Tone. I'll be here.” He held out his hand, and Tony put his hand in Jethro's.

“Sorry, Jet. Makes me too loopy to watch what I say. Glad you had my six. All that stuff about dopamine and stuff. Kept her on her toes.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed his hand, and shifted to make them both comfortable. “Always have your six, Tone. Love ya.”

“Love you too, Jethro. Night.” And Tony dozed off to sleep, his hand still entwined in his.


End file.
